


You and Mr. Taylor

by AStephens1971



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: College, Gus in College, M/M, Marriage, Older Gus, POV Second Person, Same-Sex Marriage, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStephens1971/pseuds/AStephens1971
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are Gus, entering art class at your university--and your professor is strangely familiar...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Mr. Taylor

**Author's Note:**

> Post-513, with references to 202.

 

 

It’s a big day. A new class has been announced, and you’re the first one to sign up. As you enter the classroom, you see your professor, and you can’t help feeling—there’s something very familiar about him. 

As your classmates file in, they settle in around you, and when everyone’s arrived, he speaks. “Hello, I’m your new teacher. You can call me—” 

He writes his name on the whiteboard, “Mr. Taylor.” 

“Your first project,” he informs the class, “is to show me your first memory—the first thing you remember about life.” 

Something enters your mind—whether it’s because you actually remember it or because of the stories you’ve heard others tell, you’re not sure. But it won’t go away, at least not until you get it down on canvas. 

He’s walking around, looking at everyone’s projects, but it’s yours that makes him stop and take notice. You glance up only when you feel his hand on your shoulder, surprised when you see tears welling in his eyes. “You—you remember that?” is his inquiry, not above a whisper. 

You feel a catch in your throat, and you look in his eyes. For some reason, yes, you do remember—you remember it well. You were only a year old, and he was holding you. You’d put your fingers to his mouth, and he’d just tipped his head back and laughed. 

Suddenly, the door opens. “Are you ready, Gus?” 

Although you’d insisted it wasn’t necessary, your dad has come—to pick you up. All you can do is nod silently, so you won’t face the ridicule of your classmates. “Wait for me,” he says, “I want to speak to your teacher for a minute.” 

Although you’re trying hard not to eavesdrop, you can’t help overhearing the gist of the conversation. 

“I didn’t know you were teaching a class, Sunshine.” 

“It—it was on Ben’s recommendation.” 

“How’s Gus doing?” 

A silence follows, and you know—he must be showing off your painting. 

“I can’t believe he remembers,” you can barely make out. 

“Does he know?” 

“Does he know…” 

“That it was you?” 

“I think so,” is the reply. 

All too soon, the door opens, and they emerge. “Could you come back in here for a minute, Gus?” is the request. 

You enter, wondering what’s going on, and take your seat, while Mr. Taylor and your dad head to the front of the room. “Class,” Mr. Taylor says, “I have an announcement.” He takes your dad’s hand and says, “This will be my last year.” 

In response, intermittent cries of “Awww…” make themselves known.  “Because,” he continues, still holding your dad’s hand, “I’m getting married.” 

The moans turn to applause, amid shouts of “Congratulations!” 

All too soon, the class is over, and the three of you prepare to leave. “Uh, Mr. Taylor,” you stammer, suddenly feeling awkward, “I—I guess I’ll be calling you Pop soon.” 

He smiles. “Yes, Gus, you will.” With a twinkle in his eye, he adds, “but you’ll still have to call me Mr. Kinney in class.” 

You manage a small smile—you can live with that. But—“It’s all so confusing,” you admit. 

He just chuckles. “I know,” he replies, “but I’ll help you.” 

He turns to your easel, slipping the canvas off. “Do—do you mind if we take this home?” he asks. 

“N-no,” you reply, “not at all.” 

He smiles again and puts his hands on your shoulders. “I want to remember us just like that.” 

Before he tucks it under his arm, you take a last glance at it. That was such a precious moment, and you’d give anything to be one year old again, to repeat it. 

All too soon, the picture is up, above the fireplace. And just in time, too, for the big day has arrived. By special consent, you stand proudly, next to a young lady who introduces herself only as Miss Chanders. There’s not a dry eye in the house, as they turn to two potted plants, lift them up, and take in the scent. 

“May I present to you Brian and Justin Kinney.” 

Applause is the response, as they engage in a romantic kiss. 

Later, at the reception, you approach. “Congratulations, Mr. Taylor—Mr. Kinney—Pop,” you stammer. 

He just laughs, giving you a big hug. “You’ll get it,” he assures you. “Don’t sweat it.” 

Suddenly, Miss Chanders approaches, and he softly pecks her on the cheek. “She has consented to take my place,” he informs you. 

“I would be honored to have such a talented student,” she smiles, taking your hand. “I look forward to working with you.” 

You blush at the compliment. “Th—thank you,” you stammer. 

You have not lost a teacher—you have gained another father. You can’t wait for the next chapter of this adventure!


End file.
